Making a Trade

“How poor was Jacob’s motion, and how strange 

His offer! How unequal was th’ exchange!

A mess of porridge for an inheritance?

Why could not hungry Esau strive t’ enhance

His price a little? So much underfoot?

Well might he give him bread and drink to boot:

An easy price! The case is even our own;

For toys we often sell our Heaven, our Crown.”

Francis Quarles, (May 1592 – September 1644)

Reading this dusty old poem isn’t really my favorite thing to do. Contrary to public opinion, I don’t walk around the house quoting Shakespeare or even Milton. (Just so you know, right now I’m listening to baseball on the radio and thinking about a hotdog, with onion and mustard.)

But this brief poem (the best kind!) really resonated in me. I sensed the Holy Spirit focus me on the words, and deliver to me something special. I would like to think that this is going to happen to you as well. But that is not a certainty.

Quarles’ poem sketches out the story in Genesis 25, of Jacob and Esau. For many years I have been moderately perplexed by Esau’s actions and Jacob’s conniving. Esau seems stupid, and Jacob manipulates him.

“Look, I’m dying of starvation!” said Esau. “What good is my birthright to me now?”

 “But Jacob said, “First you must swear that your birthright is mine.” So Esau swore an oath, thereby selling all his rights as the firstborn to his brother, Jacob.”

“Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and lentil stew. Esau ate the meal, then got up and left. He showed contempt for his rights as the firstborn.”

Genesis 25:32-34, NLT

The issue seems to be that I am very much like Esau. And I also seem to have the manipulative style of Jacob. I can trade off my “inheritance” as quick as anyone alive. Depending upon my mercurial moods, I will trade my supernatural peace and hope for swill. And I can do this without a second thought.

Quarles poem ends with this,

“An easy price! The case is even our own;

For toys we often sell our Heaven, our Crown.”

Toys, trinkets, trifles. I trade away the things are most precious for “swill.” But I am hoping that my heart will change, and I will stop trading off what is eternal.

ybic, Bryan

Seeing Things from Both Sides

“The Great Depression” Sandstorm

There was a time when I was in the midst of major depression that I believed that surviving that deep darkness was the hardest thing I would ever do. And it was a great struggle. It was especially difficult to comprehend when people would say things like, “If you didn’t want to be depressed you wouldn’t be.” Or they would say, “Just snap out of it and be happy.” As if being depressed was a conscious choice when I knew that it was not.

In retrospect I can see that to some extent my depression was the result of conscious choices, but I had no idea those choices would lead me to the pit of darkness and despair. Once there, I still could not see that it had been my choices that brought me there and I was not able without the help of God to see my way out.

Yes, I once thought the pit of depression was the worst place I could ever be. But I have recently come to realize that there is another place that is, if not worse, at least as bad as being depressed. That place is standing beside a family member or loved one who is caught in the stranglehold of this terrible condition of the mind and soul, and not being able to help.

There is more than one person in my life right now who is struggling as I once did to be free of the darkness of depression. I long to simply reach in and pull them out, but I can’t. Having seen things from the other side, I do at least know what NOT to say, but I don’t always know what to say or do. I understand their pain and their struggle, and it hurts to see them in that place of despair and hopelessness that I once traveled.

Why do I share this observation? Because I want you who are suffering from depression to understand that your loved ones mean well and want what is best for you. Seeing you in pain and hopelessness is difficult for them, too.

The problem is they simply do not know what to do. We who are on the outside can pray and offer encouragement, but only God can truly rescue you from the pit and pull you from the depths of despair. Only our Savior Jesus offers the hope of Light eternal that will shine into the darkness and show you the way out.

I can tell you about how He shone His Light into my darkness and revealed the choices that led me there, but my experience and my choices may not be the same as yours. Only God sees into the heart of a person to know what healing they require. It is only the hope that Jesus brings that makes seeing the pain of a loved one struggling with depression bearable.

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.

Isaiah 9:2 (NIV).

Prone to Fall, I Feel It

Art by Lynda Finch

“It is true I am weak in faith, and prone to fall, but my very feebleness is the reason why I should always be where thou feedest thy flock, that I may be strengthened and preserved in safety beside the still waters. Why should I turn aside? There is no reason why I should, but there are a thousand reasons why I should not, for Jesus beckons me to come.”

“If he withdraw himself a little, it is but to make me prize his presence more. Now that I am grieved and distressed at being away from him, he will lead me yet again to that sheltered nook where the lambs of his fold are sheltered from the burning sun.”

 

–Charles Spurgeon
Art by Lynda Finch,

Kissing Twisted Lips

God accommodates Himself to our ‘sickness’.  We find that He has this beautiful quality about Him, that He becomes quite tender and gentle around any spiritual disease.

In his book Mortal Lessons (Touchstone Books, 1987) physician Richard Selzer describes a scene in a hospital room after he had performed surgery on a young woman’s face:

“I stand by the bed where the young woman lies . . . her face, postoperative . . . her mouth twisted in palsy . . . clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, one of the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. She will be that way from now on. I had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh, I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had cut this little nerve. Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to be in a world all their own in the evening lamplight . . . isolated from me . . .private.

Who are they? I ask myself . . . he and this wry mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously. The young woman speaks. “Will my mouth always be like this?” she asks. “Yes,” I say, “it will. It is because the nerve was cut.” She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. “I like it,” he says, “it’s kind of cute.” All at once I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with the divine. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate to hers. . . to show her that their kiss still works

This is who Jesus has always been. And if you think you are getting to be a great kisser or are looking desirable, I feel sorry for you. He wraps himself around our hurts, our brokenness and our ugly, ever-present sin. Those of you who want to draw big, dark lines between my humanity and my sin, go right ahead, but I’m not joining you. It’s all ME. And I need Jesus so much to love me like I really am: brokenness, memories, wounds, sins, addictions, lies, death, fear….all of it. Take all it, Lord Jesus. If I don’t present this broken, messed up person to Jesus, my faith is dishonest, and my understanding of it will become a way of continuing the ruse and pretense of being “good.”

Now I want to talk about why this is important. We must begin to accept who we are, and bring a halt to the sad and repeated phenomenon of lives that are crumbling into pieces because the only Christian experience they know about is one that is a lie. We are infected with something that isn’t the Gospel, but a version of a religious life; an entirely untruthful version that drives genuine believers into the pit of despair and depression because, contrary to the truth, God is “against” them, rather than for them.

The verse says, “When I am weak, then I am strong- in Jesus.” It does not say “When I am strong, then I am strong, and you’ll know because Jesus will get all the credit.” Let me use two examples, and I hope neither will be offensive to those who might read and feel they recognize the persons described.

Many years ago, I knew a man who was a vibrant and very public Christian witness. He was involved in the “lay renewal” movement in the Southern Baptist Convention, which involved a lot of giving testimonies of “what God was doing in your life.” (A phrase I could do without.) He was well-known for being a better speaker than most preachers, and he was an impressive and persuasive lay speaker. His enthusiasm for Christ was convincing.

He was also known to be a serial adulterer. Over and over, he strayed from his marriage vows, and scandalized his church and its witness in the community. When confronted, his response was predictable. He would visit the Church of Total Victory Now, and return claiming to have been delivered of the “demons of lust” that had caused him to sin. Life would go on. As far as I know, the cycle continued, unabated, for all the time I knew about him.

I understand that the church today needs- desperately- to hear experiential testimonies of the power of the Gospel. I understand that it is not good news to say we are broken and are going to stay that way. I know there will be little enthusiasm for saying sanctification consists, in large measure, in seeing our sin, and acknowledging what it is and how deep and extensive it has marred us. I doubt that the ‘triumphalists’ will agree with me that the fight of faith is not a victory party, but a bloody war on a battlefield that resembles Omaha Beach more than a Beach party.

I write this piece particularly concerned for leaders, parents, pastors and teachers. I am moved and distressed that so many of them, most of all, are unable to admit their humanity, and their brokenness. In silence, they carry the secret, then stand in the place of public leadership and present a Gospel that is true, but a Christian experience that is far from true.

Then, from time to time, they fall. Into adultery, like the pastor of one of our state’s largest churches. A wonderful man, who kept a mistress for years rather than admit a problem millions of us share: faulty, imperfect marriages. Where is he now, I wonder? And where are so many others I’ve known and heard of who fell under the same weight? Their lives are lost to the cause of the Kingdom because they are just like the rest of us?

By the way, I’m not rejecting Biblical standards for leadership. I am suggesting we need a Biblical view of humanity when we read those passages. Otherwise we are going to turn statements like “rules his household well” into a disqualification to every human being on the planet.

I hear of those who are depressed. Where do they turn for help? How do they admit their hurt? It seems so “unChristian” to admit depression, yet it is a reality for millions and millions of human beings. Porn addiction. Food addiction. Rage addiction. Obsessive needs for control. Chronic lying and dishonesty. How many pastors and Christian leaders live with these human frailties and flaws, and never seek help because they can’t admit what we all know is true about all of us? They speak of salvation, love and Jesus, but inside they feel like the damned.

Multiply this by the hundreds of millions of broken Christians. They are merely human, but their church says they must be more than human to be good Christians. They cannot speak of or even acknowledge their troubled lives. Their marriages are wounded. Their children are hurting. They are filled with fear and the sins of the flesh. They are depressed and addicted, yet they can only approach the church with the lie that all is well, and if it becomes apparent that all is not well, they avoid the church.

I do not blame the church for this situation. It is always human nature to avoid the mirror and prefer the self-portrait. I blame all of us who know better. We know this is not the message of the Gospels, the Bible or of Jesus. But we  every one of us is afraid to live otherwise. What if someone knew we were not a good Christian? Ah…what if…what if….

I close with a something I have said many times before. The Prodigal son, there on his knees, his father’s touch upon him, was not a “good” or “victorious” Christian. He was broken. A failure. He wasn’t even good at being honest. He wanted religion more than grace. His father baptized him in mercy, and resurrected him in grace. His brokenness was wrapped up in the robe and the embrace of God.

Why do we want to be better than that boy? Why do we make the older brother the goal of Christian experience? Why do we want to add our own addition to the parable, where the prodigal straightens out and becomes a successful youth speaker, writing books and doing youth revivals?

Lutheran writer Herman Sasse, in a meditation on Luther’s last words, “We are beggars. This is true,” puts it perfectly:

Luther asserted the very opposite: “Christ dwells only with sinners.” For the sinner and for the sinner alone is His table set. There we receive His true body and His true blood “for the forgiveness of sins” and this holds true even if forgiveness has already been received in Absolution. That here Scripture is completely on the side of Luther needs no further demonstration. Every page of the New Testament is indeed testimony of the Christ whose proper office it is “to save sinners”, “to seek and to save the lost”. And the entire saving work of Jesus, from the days when He was in Galilee and, to the amazement and alarm of the Pharisees, ate with tax collectors and sinners; to the moment when he, in contradiction with the principles of every rational morality, promised paradise to the thief on the cross, yes, His entire life on earth, from the cradle to the Cross, is one, unique grand demonstration of a wonder beyond all reason: The miracle of divine forgiveness, of the justification of the sinner. “Christ dwells only in sinners’.

***** 

 

Most of this is past of an old post from the blog of the “Internet Monk” and has been repeated here for your edification.

This blog can be read in its entirity at :  http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/imonk-101-when-i-am-weak-why-we-must-embrace-our-brokenness-and-never-be-good-christians

The Internet Monk’s website is really engaging and diverse and I strongly suggest visiting it.

 ybic, Bryan